His Favorite Christmas Story
by suicunespurr
Summary: Adrien meets a mysterious young woman in Paris on Christmas Eve. She wore red lipstick to match her pretty dress. December 24 at a quarter to 11, he finally gained the courage to ask her to dance. Song-Fic


It was a rare occasion for Adrien Agreste to find himself back in Paris for Christmas. He had followed his father around the world, learning the fashion business his father prided himself on. But Paris, Adrien still called Paris home after a five-year absence.  
He left the hotel they were staying that evening to enjoy the Christmas Eve, his father intent on working well into the holiday. As his father would say, "A business owner knows no rest to do the best for his company." Adrien had finished his work for the holiday, so he slipped out of their shared room and into the crowded night.  
Snow drifted down, crowning shoppers with snowflake crowns. Many lamp posts were decorated with garland and festive light still twinkled in closing stores. Mixtures of holiday cheer and stress filled the atmosphere, Adrien smiling as the scene brought many fond memories of Christmases past. He couldn't name one in particular, but it gave the night a feeling of magic.  
Adrien walked to the Eiffel tower, carolers singing through the night to people passing. He took a spot on a bench watching the merry people leaving the tower as he bobbed his head to the music.  
As he watched the crowds, a flash of red caught his eye. His gaze followed the red to see a girl walking over to the carolers, her red dress swaying as she listened to the music. She smiled, trying to join their song, her lipstick matching her red dress. Adrien knew at that moment he was in love with the woman in red.  
He watched her as she sang along with the music, Adrien debating what to do. Should he talk to her? Would she find him creepy? A random stranger talking to her.  
She tried to dance to the music, the red dress swirling around her as the carolers smiled at her performance. Adrien knew it was now or never.  
He stood up from the bench and marched over to her, trying to think of what to say. He was so lost in his head, he didn't realize how close he had gotten. She bumped into his chest as the carollers stopped their song.  
"Oops, sorry. Clumsy me," she giggled as she stepped away, Adrien holding her hand to stop her from going too far. She looked up at him, curious at this sudden movement.  
"W-would you like to dance," he managed to ask.  
The carolers started singing again, the mischievous singers looking at each other with knowing glances.  
"I would love to dance," she agreed, placing her other hand on his shoulder. Adrien brought his hand to the small of her back, bringing her a little closer as they started to dance. He glanced at their hands as they dance, noticing the time read 10:45.  
"What is it," she asked, looking at their meeting hands.  
"It's a quarter to 11."  
The woman smiled, the Eiffel Tower lights twinkling in her blue eyes.  
"In that case, we got all night."  
He returned the smile, spinning her around.  
"You look familiar, have we met before," she asked as he brought back in.  
"I don't think so, I would remember a beautiful face like yours anywhere."  
The woman blushed, turning her head down so he couldn't see, but the red tips of her ears gave it away.  
"I travel a lot, but I lived in Paris years ago."  
"That might be it then. My family visits Paris every holiday to see family."  
"So you're not from here either."  
"A little bit out of town."  
Adrien nodded, the carollers switching to a faster pace song.  
"Are you ready," she asked?  
"For what…" he tried to ask before she pulled him into a faster dance, skipping around the base of the Eiffel Tower. It took a bit, but Adrien caught up to her step, the two wildly dancing around. They danced through the night, the people around disappearing. Eventually, the carollers moved on, leaving Adrien and the woman to dance to their humming of Christmas music.  
"What time is it," the woman asked, her head leaning on Adrien's chest. He rested his head on top of hers, enjoying her soft dark hair against his cheek.  
"Late," he answered, continuing to sway.  
"And now you don't care about the time," she teased.  
"I asked you to dance at 10:45, which I consider very important to remember. I don't want to remember when we have to leave."  
She burrowed into his coat.  
"It's probably already Christmas," she whispered.  
"Merry Christmas," he whispered back.  
She stopped their dancing, looking up at him.  
"Merry Christmas." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek before running off into the night.  
He never caught her name.

* * *

A few Christmases later, Adrien sat at a diner alone. His father had passed that year, leaving Adrien the family business. The business picked back up with the limited time Classic Gabriel collection that holiday, so Adrien figured going out for the holiday was earned instead of trying to work through it. He could go back to work on the 26 anyway.  
He looked around the restaurant, families enjoying their holiday meal. His waitress seemed to be in an especially jolly mood as she helped a mother calm a toddler who did not want the green beans. She amused the child with the light-up necklace she wore, the baby enchanted as the mother managed to slip a green bean with its food.  
Adrien smiled at the scene, then looked back to his coffee cup. He couldn't remember finishing it all. He glanced up to see the waitress was done, holding up his cup to flag her down. The young lady smiled, returning to the kitchen area to get a coffee pot before walking over.  
"I don't think I've seen you in the are before," she commented as she filled his mug.  
"I travel a lot for work."  
"Oo, you must have a lot of good Christmas stories."  
Adrien shook his head, not saying yes and not saying no either.  
"Could you tell me one," she asked, pulling back up the pot.  
Adrien ruffled the back of his head, trying to think. When he remembered it. His favorite Christmas story.  
"Here's my favorite Christmas story about a girl with no name."  
As if sensing his excitement, the girl sat down in the booth opposite him. Even a couple of families were looking at them.  
"I met her up in Paris back in 2007. She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress. December 24th at a quarter to 11 when I finally gained the courage to ask her to dance."

* * *

As he traveled during the holidays, it became a tradition for him to tell his favorite Christmas story with the people he met. Other executives in the fashion industry were curious. The employees wished their boss had learned her name, a few of the higher-ups even berating him for not trying to find the woman who made him happy. The locals romanticized about the traveling man and the angelic woman. He became known among the locals as Christmas Story-Telling Traveling Man.

* * *

By age 53, he settled down in his old house in Paris. 38 years from living in a permanent house, the feeling of not traveling all the time felt odd. Maybe his father had insisted on traveling after his mother passed. Maybe Adrien should have settled years ago. With the woman in the red dress. But if she visited Paris anymore he didn't know.  
Instead, he found other ways to make his retirement less boring. He had the largest yard in the neighborhood, which the local children had made use of before his arrival. After he moved in, he was more than happy to let them wander the yard as they pleased. It brought life to an otherwise cold and lonely house.  
The children grew fond of their elderly neighbor in return. One of them had been bold enough to ask Mr. Agreste about his move, and the children learned about his travels. He would tell them stories, some more exaggerated than others, about working around the world and the people he met.  
On Christmas Eve, the children would stop their playing just before it got dark, circle around Adrien in his living room for their favorite story. He would tell them his favorite Christmas story every year, mostly because of how much they loved to hear it. They could quote it by heart if you asked them to. It was their favorite Christmas story about a girl with no name.  
"I met her up in Paris back in 2007. She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress. December 24th at a quarter to 11 when I finally gained the courage to ask her to dance."

* * *

20 years later, Adrien lay in a hospital bed. Adrien knew his time was coming to a close, on Christmas morning of all days. The children had long grown up, too busy with the holidays to visit although a couple tried the days before. Adrien sighed; another Christmas alone except the small nurse who sat beside him, petting his hand.  
"Ma'am, could you share a little holiday cheer," he asked. Heaven knew if he even could tell a story with how short his breaths had become. But listening to a nice Christmas story would be a good way to go.  
The old woman smiled, her blue eyes twinkling under the hospital lights.  
"I do have a favorite Christmas story if you would like to hear it," she offered.  
Adrien nodded, closing his eyes to listen.  
"I met him up in Paris back in 2007. Though I never caught his name he was a traveling man. December 24th at a quarter to 11, I'm so glad he got the courage to ask me to dance."

* * *

"What time is it," the woman asked, her head leaning on Adrien's chest. He rested his head on top of hers, enjoying her soft dark hair against his cheek.

"Late," he answered, continuing to sway.  
"And now you don't care about the time," she teased.  
"I asked you to dance at 10:45, which I consider very important to remember. I don't want to remember when we have to leave."  
She burrowed into his coat.  
"It's probably already Christmas," she whispered.  
"Merry Christmas," he whispered back.  
She stopped their dancing, looking up at him.  
"Merry Christmas." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She was about to run off when he caught her hand. They both stood there, looking at their hands. He felt as if he didn't get her name now, he would probably never see her again.  
"My name's Adrien. Adrien Agreste," he said, looking at her.  
Her eyes went wide, probably recognizing his name. She bit her lip as if debating whether to tell him. She looked up at him, shaking his hand.  
"Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

* * *

Lordy, I've had this fic in my head for two years! Ever since I heard that one song on the radio.  
This is based on the song "His Favorite Christmas Story" by Capital Lights.  
I changed up the ending a little because the first year I heard the song it made me cry every time at the ending.  
/Capital-lights-his-favorite-christmas-story-lyrics

Am I coming back to Fan-Fic writing? No. I just wanted to write something and this was all I could think of.

I have though written an original story that is now up on Amazon.  
"Tormino's"  
Torminos-Yuuki-Haneda-ebook/dp/B0815875GM/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Tormino&qid=1575577047&sr=8-1

Filled with lots of romantic fluffy goodness that I like to write. It was originally intended to be a fan-fic for Miraculous, but now its own thing with original characters. But you can see hints of Miraculous inspiration.  
Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas!


End file.
